This Being Woman

You stand now in the pension queue

With secrets of the former you

The handheld strolls on seaside piers

The dinner dances and the tears

The hen nights and the going Dutch

The skin that men so longed to touch

The stomach howl of childbirth

The never knowing what you're worth

This being woman, being old

Invisible and unsaid gold

Still sensuous with mystery

The silk of who you've yet to be

Doo doo doo doo, doo, doo doo, ah

And you remember tumbling things

The fresh and fluid light of spring

The fractious children, midnight mass

The almost lover's heady pass

The saving for that summer cruise

And every month the piercing blues

The lipsticks bought, the cashmere coat

The husband gone without a note

This being woman, being old

Invisible and unsaid gold

Still sensuous with mystery

It's the silk of who you've yet to be

Doo doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo

Doo doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo

Doo doo doo doo, da, da

The Christmas shopping on your own

The ecstasy you should have known

The dreams and dust of wedding vows

The silent darkness, funerals, rows

Albums full of photographs

The sunflowers and mountain paths

The olive groves, the gasping kiss

The too much time to reminisce

The jewelry with that silver cross

The cherry sunsets and the loss

The role of a mother, friend and a wife

This gallery of all your life

This being woman, being old

Invisible and unsaid gold

Still sensuous with mystery

It's the silk of who you've yet to be

This being woman, being old

Invisible and unsaid gold

Still sensuous with mystery

The silk of who you've yet to be

Doo doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo

Doo doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo

Doo doo doo doo, da, da

This being woman, being old

Invisible and unsaid gold

Still sensuous with mystery

The silk of who you've yet to be

Oh